Original Size — Medium-Size
Drawn by her sweet lips’ perfume,
As a bee to golden broom,
When the braes are all in bloom,
Stole the Prince across the room.
Every step he nearer set,
Oped the eyes of violet—
Oped a little—wider yet!—
Till the white lids, quite asunder,
Showed the beauties hidden under—
Showed the soft eyes, full of wonder,
Opening, towards him turned—
Till their radiance bent upon him
From his trance of marvel won him;
And his bosom burned
With the passion to outpour
All his soul her feet before,
Careless if she spurned,
So that he might only tell
That he loved her—and how well!
Now through the palace woke the stir of life;
Both fork and knife
Were in the banquet-hall with vigour plied,
While far and wide
Awoke so great a riot after the quiet,
It seemed as if the household was at strife.
Girl, woman, boy, and man
Bustled about and ran—
All hurried, not one plodding!
Because, you see,
Each thought that he or she
Had been the only one that had been nodding,
And, fearful of detection,
Was bound to strive and look alive,
In order to escape correction.
Meanwhile the red sun set. And yet
The household did not into order get:
All was surprise and wonder,
Error and blunder.
The fire was out, the cook was in a pet,
The feast was cold, the Queen was in a fret;
The hunters just returned, they thought, from hunting,
Felt it affronting
Their game should get so very high and mite-y;
The housemaid, seeing all the dust and dirt,
Felt hurt,
It drove her almost crazy—at least flighty.
But over all this din and turmoil soon
Uprose the silver moon,
And by its rays shed on the dewy grass,
Forth from the palace that young pair did pass,
And threaded the deep shades
In the arcades
Of sombre forests that around them lay.
And so they took their way
To Fairyland, wherein, as legends say,
’Mid mirth and merry-making, song and laughter,
They married, living happy ever after—
And there, I’m told, they ‘re living to this day!